


thoughts i cannot defend

by trainerlyra



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: "mitzi haven't you written this.... exact fic before", Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Datastormshipping, Introspection, Light Romance, M/M, season 1 AU, this is my birthday present to myself., you can pry ryoken guilt and introspection from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26261170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trainerlyra/pseuds/trainerlyra
Summary: Prisoners of fate, he had called them in Link VRAINS. A fitting title. Somewhere deep inside him, Ryoken wondered how deep the thread that connected them went.
Relationships: Fujiki Yuusaku/Revolver | Kougami Ryouken
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	thoughts i cannot defend

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no DataStorm, huh?
> 
> I, uh, did not mean to go this long without publishing a fic. Sorry! June and July were really, really hard months for me - lots and lots of difficulties and I struggled quite a bit. August was a lot less so, but I just started a new job, so that took up a lot of my time. Honestly, I'm amazed I managed to finish this in time for my birthday, but I did it! So yes, happy birthday to me, I'm another year older lol. Sorry to worry everyone that I haven't spoken with recently, especially if you follow me over on YT - I know I have a ton of people to get back to, and I promise I will when I have the mental energy, I've just been so crazy busy lol quarantine has not been kind to me since like April. I am doing better now (gosh, I better be doing okay on my birthday of all days lmao) and things have settled :)
> 
> Anyways, I have maybe written this kind of fic like, five times, but you know what? It's my birthday and if I want to write Ryoken angst and introspection again I will :D So... have a S1 AU where things go very differently after the Tower of Hanoi! Hope you enjoy!

Before the Tower of Hanoi, Ryoken had been sure of his path. He had failed, and thus, he would die. He and Playmaker both would die atop the tower, finally bringing an end to both of their pain. There was nothing else that needed to be planned. Nothing else that needed to be said or done. It was simple, foolproof.

Until, of course, it wasn't. Until, of course, Playmaker - Yusaku Fujiki - yet again defied his every expectation, and forced him to face reality for the second time in his life.

When he was only eight years old, he'd sat in the back of that room and cried for hours, rocking himself back and forth until he had managed to get a grip long enough to try talking to one of the test subjects. They were _children,_ even younger than he was, and the idea that his own father had somehow found it necessary to torture them half to death was more debilitating than almost anything in his life still to this day.

And then again, on top of the tower as the rest of the network crumbled around them, Ryoken knew that he was not dying there that day. No, Playmaker would never be so kind as to let him go in peace. He was set on dragging him back into the world of the living, and forging a future with him.

So there he was, in his empty home standing next to his father's corpse, Yusaku staring at him with an intensity he thought only Playmaker might be able to hold.

Of course it had been him. Of course Playmaker, the one that got in his way at every turn, would turn out to be the one boy he'd reached out to back then. Who kept him sneaking in, again and again, and got him to turn his back on his own flesh and blood.

Ryoken almost wanted to sigh. He should've known from the get go. Though he'd only seen Yusaku's eyes a few times before this, they were the same as Playmaker's through and through. Vibrant green, holding more emotion than his face could ever betray.

Kusanagi had left long ago to keep tabs from the truck, and the rest of the Knights were still not with them yet. Ryoken suspected that it might take a few hours until everybody who had lost consciousness in the network would wake again. This left him and Yusaku Fujiki alone - or mostly alone - in the giant space of his home.

The sunset poured in from the windows, uncomfortably bright and setting a certain mood that he couldn't exactly dissect. Yusaku, for once, looked… like he couldn't think of the right words to say, or to start with. His eyes were bright and focused, but his mouth twitched every few seconds.

There was no point in delaying the inevitable. It was better to get it over with quickly, Ryoken thought, regardless of the lump in his own chest and throat. This boy… this boy had been all he had thought about for so long, even on top of his own family and the Knights. This boy had always been at the forefront of his every turn, wondering if he was okay out in the world. Wondering if, wherever he'd ended up, if he was moving on. If he were able to live.

And then, as Playmaker, this boy had once again been in every action he took. As both Revolver and Ryoken. Inevitable, indeed.

_Prisoners of fate_ , he had called them in Link VRAINS. A fitting title. Somewhere deep inside him, Ryoken wondered how deep the thread that connected them went. It was difficult to imagine an ending to it.

"So?" He finally prompted, not liking where his thoughts were heading. He'd been fighting those feelings for a long time now, and now was not the time nor the place to even begin trying to figure them out. "What now, Playmaker?" Ryoken couldn't help the sneer that formed on his lips. "Do we run off into the sunset, never to worry again?"

Part of him badly wanted to turn towards said sunset, away from those burning green eyes. The other part of him, however, was far too stubborn and had no desire to lose whatever battle they might be playing.

Yusaku shifted on his feet, his arms hanging limply by his sides. "Do you think I've thought everything out perfectly?" He asked, enunciating every syllable with care. As if he was trying to be sure he could speak correctly. He shrugged lightly, not moving his eyes from Ryoken's blues. "Because I haven't. But If you'd like to, and I want to, we can… talk about it." He looked almost hopeful. Ryoken held back a shudder.

He _wanted_ to snarl out _talk about what?_ Because what was there to talk about? He should be in prison. No sane man on earth would let him walk free after almost committing mass genocide, even from an anonymous avatar in the network. And even if he wasn't, he was almost as badly equipped for the real world as Playmaker was.

There had never been a normal for either of them. Why should they start now?

But the longer he hesitated, the more hopeful Yusaku's green eyes grew. Ryoken swallowed hard. "Dammit," he hissed to himself, shaking his head and wanting nothing more than to put it into his hands for eternity. "Do I have a choice?" He asked, knowing his own answer: _no_.

Yusaku, however, frowned. "You always have a choice, Ryoken. That's the whole point." His given name rolled off his tongue so easily, like he'd said it a thousand times though he'd just learned it hours ago.

Little did Playmaker know, he hadn't had a choice from the very moment he'd laid eyes upon him; in that small white cell ten years ago. Everything in his life had been formed from that one singular moment.

"I don't," he said, but continued quickly before Yusaku could interject. "Fine. We'll talk. But not right now." It was a weak attempt to gain back some control, but he saw the other boy nodding along eagerly. "Give me your phone."

A few days at least would give him the chance to collect himself, and possibly regain enough sanity to make a run for it. Having this kind of conversation right now, however, while his father was quite literally rotting away next to him and he had just failed in the most humiliating defeat of his entire life was… not likely to go the way _either_ of them wanted it to go.

On second though, maybe they should have it right here and now. So Yusaku can truly see what an asshole he is and can leave him be in peace.

Before he could potentially voice that thought though, Yusaku was already pushing his crappy old cellphone into his hands. The Dark Ignis, who had been quiet thus far, looked at him curiously from his spot on Yusaku's wrist. Ryoken sent him a glare, and he quickly moved back inside the duel disk.

Silently, Ryoken grabbed the phone and input his personal number onto it. For good measure, he also added Revolver to Playmaker's friend list on VRAINS, as their accounts were far more secure then whatever texting programs were available to the market these days. With more force then Yusaku had used, he shoved it back at the younger boy, finally forcing himself to turn around from those eyes of his.

The water out below reflected the oranges and pinks of the sky; a very different color palette then Stardust Road was usually painted with. It was distracting enough that he almost didn't hear Yusaku.

"Promise me," he said, snapping Ryoken out of wherever his thoughts might be leading him. "Promise me you won't leave." He paused, then hurriedly continued. "Promise me you'll see this through."

Just like before, the hope in his eyes - and now his voice - made Ryoken's stomach churn unpleasantly. Or maybe he just wasn't used to being looked at like that. Like he _mattered_ , for reasons that weren't Hanoi related. He wasn't sure, but he certainly didn't like it. "Fine," he agreed quietly, unsure if Yusaku would even hear him.

He didn't like it, but he would agree. He had lost, fair and square. It was only right that he followed through, much as he didn't want to.

For now, at least.

* * *

It took them four days to meet up again. For four days, Ryoken dealt with far, far more than anyone should have to in that span of time, but that was just fine by him. The busier he kept, the less time he had to be thinking about other things. Things like his dead father and dead world views. Things like how he was supposed to adapt to a world that had suddenly opened up in front of him while simultaneously drowning him in lingering regret and guilt.

Things like the very conversation he was currently unaware of how to start.

Yusaku had texted him that morning, giving him nothing more to go off of then a location and a time. Ryoken couldn't even find it in him to be surprised. Playmaker had never cared much for long, sprawling monologues - unless, of course, it was himself he was speaking to - and Yusaku was likely no different.

It was also, much to his distaste, a welcome change of pace. In the time that he'd been avoiding this conversation, he'd been busy planning his father's funeral, if one could even call it that, and then trying his best to disband and send off the remaining Knights of Hanoi in a way that wouldn't get them all stuck in jail like Taki. Spectre had been the hardest of the send offs, and Ryoken was just about at his wit's end trying to figure out a way to make _both_ of them happy with their new directions in life when Yusaku had texted him.

So now here he was, on the small tourist road near his house that Kusanagi used to park his hot dog van, staring blankly at Yusaku and trying and failing not to catalog everything about the other boy to memory.

The last four days had been kind to him. That much was certain, with the way he looked a little more… full of life. He still looked very much so starved of life; malnourished and a little too pale, but he also had a bit more color to his face. His eyes seemed to shine just a tad bit lighter and he looked a little more comfortable in his own skin. It was a welcome change. One that Ryoken would very much like to remember.

Most of his memories of the boy in the real world were so dark. Mostly of a little boy, ten long years ago, in that bright white room overshadowed by the sound of electricity and his quiet cries. Then, of course, the night that they dueled on top of the tower, where Yusaku had begged him not to fight and for them to just… move on, as if Ryoken's entire life wasn't built up for the mere purpose of carrying out his father's wishes in misplaced retribution.

"Ryoken," Yusaku finally said, apparently done taking him in faster than Ryoken was. He almost had a mind to tell the other boy to wait a moment, but he wasn't ready to show that kind of weakness to anyone just yet. "Do you know how to live?"

Blinking, Ryoken's initial thought was to just say _yes, of course_. Living was simple, in its own way. Getting up, getting through the day, keeping a body moving by breathing and eating and sleeping - it was the most basic of instincts.

But he knew that was not what Yusaku was asking at all. When he had shouted that he would seize a new future together with him, he meant to _live_ in a way neither of them ever had before. While Ryoken's entire life had been guided by his father and the Hanoi Project, Yusaku's had been much the same, making sure neither of them ever got the chance to be normal at all.

Answering anything other than yes felt wrong, though, so instead Ryoken opted to say nothing at all. Yusaku didn't seem particularly troubled by that.

"I don't, not really," he confessed easily, as if this wasn't someone who had any trouble talking about himself or his own emotions. Maybe with Ryoken, he didn't. The thought made the older boy's face twist. "But I'd like to learn with you."

Part of him wanted to lash out, but he knew it was a futile effort. He'd already lost - this was just, in his mind, paying the price of that loss. Just like if he had won, the price would have been his own blood on his hands, along with the blood of thousands of others. And besides, the last few days had left him totally and completely drained. He'd never imagined having to continue on after the second loss of his father and the loss of his mission in its entirety.

So what was the point? There was none, Ryoken realized, and no matter how much Yusaku's words stirred something that he kept far below the surface, he would not budge. He had lost, yes, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

He knew he had promised Yusaku a conversation, but he… he wasn't there yet. He wasn't really sure if he ever would be. If he would ever be ready to open himself up like that and truly listen and take in what Yusaku's wishes were.

Right now, every time the younger boy opened his mouth, Ryoken could barely listen to his words; instead hearing his own thoughts and desperation to leave everything behind. The more he became attached, he knew, the harder it might become to do so. Better to keep everyone and everything at arm's length.

Especially someone as dangerous as Yusaku Fujiki.

The danger the younger boy posed was not in his dueling prowess, nor in any physical capability. No, it was the danger to make Ryoken actually want to try, and actually follow through with whatever words he was feeding him for the time being.

He knew himself well, and he knew the way that he felt about the other boy was drastically different then how he felt about Spectre, or the rest of the Knights of Hanoi. There had always been a pull there, ever since they were children and bumping into each other on the street for the first time. He'd be a fool not to acknowledge it.

And that was what made him so dangerous.

Slowly, Ryoken weighed his options. Give him a partial truth, with enough wiggle room to make sure he wasn't being doubted but also giving him the chance to get out when he inevitably would need to, or give him a total lie so he would not feel bad when he slipped out of the city, never to be heard from again. Neither option sounded great - one involved being honest at all, which was entirely too much, and one involved the possibility of Yusaku not believing him and ruining his chances of a getaway.

Unfortunately, that made the decision for him. Yusaku could read him all too well, and that wasn't a chance he was willing to take.

"I'm not sure if I'm ready for that," he said, forcing himself to say the words. Part of him wondered if his struggle would somehow make it more believable for Yusaku. Part of him hated that thought. "I don't know if I'll ever be there. But we can start slow, I suppose." He sounded rough around the edges, but that was the truth. The only lie in there was the assumption that he would go along with this charade forever.

He could tell it did its job by the way Yusaku's eyes shone just a little brighter. Ryoken thought he was going to be sick. "Thank you," he told him, a small and honest smile making its way to his lips. Yeah, he was definitely going to be sick. "I won't push you. Let's meet again soon."

The hope that he had just given the younger boy was yet another thing added to his list of sins. The more he fell into this mockery of growth, the more he hated himself.

"Right," he echoed dully, voice more strained than he meant it to be. "Right."

As he watched Yusaku walk away, he wondered how long he could possibly keep this up for. How long his brain - and his heart - would last.

He also wondered how bad it really would be to do this forever. The second the thought entered his mind, he had his answer. The fact that he was even seriously considering it meant it was bad enough.

"Don't forget your true ending," he mumbled to himself as he watched the space Yusaku had just been. "Don't forget your meant to die."

As if he ever would for more than a moment, anyways.

* * *

If their last conversation had been awkward, the current situation was on another level entirely. How did one have friends? How did someone learn about another person when you already knew every intimate detail that mattered?

None of this made any sense to Ryoken, and his grip on his steering wheel tightened at his agitation. The car ride thus far had been particularly silent, and not in a comfortable way.

Well, at least not for him. Yusaku just stared out the window, posture slightly more drooped then usual. No matter the situation, he always seemed more grounded when they spoke. Ryoken wished he didn't understand it to some degree - though his was the opposite. No matter what, he always felt on edge around the boy.

So why did he continue to seek him out? Why did he continue to agree to this nonsense, this attempt to live normally now that the Dark Ignis had decided to run off to Cyberse for the time being and his hand forcibly stayed?

He knew exactly why, in all honesty, but he wasn't terribly comfortable thinking about it. His dreams were already a bit too much to wake up from every morning. Thinking about it too deeply would only lead to more agitation and guilt. Especially right now.

That was the other reason; the guilt. Ryoken doubted he would ever recover from the guilt of leading a child right into the monster's mouth, nor did he particularly want to. Every glance at his arms covered in faded scars or the way that Yusaku's eyes sometimes glazed over in the middle of a sentence were grim reminders of what he had done. What he had knowingly contributed to, tried to fix, tried to fix _that_ , and then ruined again.

The Hanoi Project would haunt him for years to come. Most likely for the rest of his life. Part of him, every time he succumbed to any of Yusaku's will, wondered if it was only out of that guilt that he refused to hurt the other boy any more. Atonement was something he'd desired but pushed himself away from for years, and now that it was finally sitting in front of him, he wondered if he was a fool to take it.

If one could even call this taking it in the first place.

"Ryoken," Yusaku interrupted, and Ryoken willed himself back into the present. It wasn't safe to zone out like that while driving, anyways, even if he knew the route to his house by heart. "Why are you doing this?"

He almost slammed on the breaks. Instead, he forced himself to breathe, taking in each of his senses slowly to keep himself steady. He'd barely been ready for the last conversation; let alone something like this.

Another deep breath. "What do you mean?" He asked, desperately hoping he was the only one who could hear the strain in his voice.

"Why did you decide to take me back to your home? My apartment is much closer to school," Yusaku said, turning from the window to face him.

Ryoken almost laughed, some of the tension seeping away. His grip on the steering wheel became lighter. So close, but yet so far off. "Can you even call it an apartment?" He replied, before realizing his mistake.

Oh, well. Tracking Yusaku once he'd learned his real name was hardly the worst of his crimes. It was nothing compared to actively bringing a small child to his father to be _tortured_. And it wasn't likely that the younger boy had never considered the possibility. He was the leader of a cyber terrorist organization, after all. Hacking into security camera footage was nothing to either of them.

Despite his intentions to not look at Yusaku again for the rest of the car ride, Ryoken couldn't help but sneak a glance. The soft, almost comfortable expression had given way into a scowl. It wasn't that angry, though - almost light hearted in nature.

The world seemed to spin around him at that realization, and his grip tightened. The dizzying idea that somehow, Yusaku was willing to be comfortable and carefree with him after everything was both a miracle and extremely, extremely terrifying.

After their last conversation, and their planned outing today, Ryoken had known. Obviously, he had known that the younger boy wanted him in his life. He'd have to have been blind to not. But part of him was still holding out hope that… he wasn't sure, really. That Yusaku would come to his senses? Would realize that being friends with him, _wanting_ to be friends with him, was nothing more than self destruction?

The relaxed atmosphere Yusaku was exuding was nearly suffocating. It was far, far more than Ryoken had ever deserved, and his stomach twisted around a knife that had suddenly found its way into his gut.

At least, count his blessings, he was well trained enough to keep these thoughts to himself. Yusaku, if he had noticed, hadn't brought it up, and his demeanor hadn't changed. That was for the best.

Ryoken wasn't sure he would be able to take the guilt.

It was on the long, winding road up to the top of the hill that Ryoken made his decision. This would be the last time he'd ever see Yusaku Fujiki in real life. No more casual meet ups, no more talking and working on _living_ together. No matter what he'd promised.

He couldn't do it. His heart felt like it was getting tugged in all directions as he came to the understanding with himself, but that was something he would have to learn to live with. It likely wouldn't be much different then the years he'd spent learning to live without his father when he thought he was dead. Practice would make perfect, and his mask would grow thicker throughout the years.

Yusaku Fujiki was like a poison, made specifically with him in mind. Ryoken could see that clearly now as the nausea in his stomach grew.

Today would be the last day. As they parked, and Yusaku took in the sight of Stardust Road from the top of the hill, Ryoken studied him carefully. He would commit the view to memory, as one final form of self hatred. At least when it came to Yusaku Fujiki.

* * *

The discomfort of the night seemed to be only present to Ryoken, and he didn't really want to stop and think about why that was. Yusaku seemed completely neutral, as he often did, though he couldn't place his finger on why he wasn't worked up at all. Everything that Ryoken said or did he second guessed. Yusaku, for all his awkwardness in most social situations, seemed to bounce quite comfortably off of him, no matter how much he tried to stop the flow of conversation or change the subject to something drastic or emotional.

It was like, whether he knew it or not, he was thwarting every attempt at self sabotage the older boy could possibly throw.

Instead of convincing him to stay, like Ryoken was sure he was trying to do, however, it convinced him of exactly the opposite. This was too easy to fall into. Too easy to lose himself in and get used to.

And he could picture it, too - in a month or two, maybe he'd start regularly picking up Yusaku from the gates of Den City High. Maybe they'd work on his homework together in a poor attempt to fix his failing grades that he'd just hack back up, or maybe they'd watch a movie that they could talk about afterwards. Something that was supposed to be serious, but would likely pale in comparison to what they'd already lived through together.

Maybe he'd start learning how to cook. He already knew that Yusaku was malnourished; hot dogs were not exactly nutritious enough to get him what he needed and it wasn't as if he ate a lot of them anyways. Cooking was something Ryoken could easily see himself taking up, as something solid he could produce that would actually help someone he cared about, in a real and tangible way.

Go a step farther, and Ryoken could even see himself sharing more and more intimate moments with the other boy. He could so clearly picture what it would be like to wake up next to him, with Yusaku still soundly asleep and the morning sun peeking through the blinds onto his face.

None of it could ever be real, Ryoken knew. No matter how badly a long buried and forgotten part of himself wanted it to be. No matter how badly some days he wished he could go back in time and fix… everything. Give him and this boy the childhood friendship that Yusaku so strongly deserved. No more Hanoi Project, no more Ignis, no more torture and kidnappings and whispered words getting them through the hard nights years later.

Just… normalcy. A normal life, a normal friendship, a normal relationship grown out of that. And the fact that this was not what he would be giving to the other boy, in any way, shape, or form, served as little more than a reminder that he should not even entertain the idea.

Not for himself, and certainly not for Yusaku Fujiki. He deserved better. He always had deserved better than the broken bits and pieces that Ryoken could give him.

* * *

Of course, nothing was ever that simple. If it were, Ryoken would have never gotten into this particular mess in the first place.

Later that night, as he'd headed down to the docks, a very familiar voice stopped him in his tracks. Ryoken didn't dare turn around. "You're breaking your promise already?" Yusaku asked. He didn't even sound surprised; just… disappointed. "I expected you to at least last a week."

If it were any other time, he might've felt affronted by that remark. Instead, he kept quiet. He probably should've expected Yusaku to be out here, waiting for him to take off into the night.

While he had screwed up, Yusaku was determined to be one step ahead of him still. His silence didn't deter the boy whatsoever. "If you go, you know I'll find you again." He spoke with such confidence that Ryoken had no choice but to believe him.

No matter how ridiculous the claim was, Ryoken was sure Yusaku would manage. He'd managed to track him down again ten years later, after all - there was no doubt in his mind that the younger boy would never stop searching for him.

Something in him cracked at that particular realization. "How did you know?" He started, but quickly continued. He didn't really want to hear the answer to that question. " _Why_ do you care _so much_?" He turned around at his own question, trying to find the answers himself.

During their last duel, Yusaku had told him that he would stop at nothing to seize a future together. That he would save him - just like he had saved the younger boy, once upon a time. But were his words really that important, back then? Especially when it had been _him_ that had brought him into that hellish experiment in the first place? Ryoken didn't _deserve_ to be saved. That had always been the case.

If only Yusaku would understand that.

Instead, Yusaku only seemed to try _harder_ every time he pushed the boy away. Not even a threat of mass genocide and the worst cyber terrorist attack known to mankind would turn him away. In Yusaku's eyes, no matter what he did, Ryoken was irredeemable.

It was a hard pill to swallow for someone who thought his crimes started at eight years old. He doubted he'd ever once thought of himself the way Yusaku did, and he wasn't keen on starting now.

Yusaku, for all his conviction, seemed to falter at the question. Ryoken watched him swallow hard before answering. "If you think it's just about what you did for me back then, you're wrong," he said, making sure his eyes were trained on Ryoken's own. "It's not just about that. It's never been just about what you did for me ten years ago."

He scoffed at that. "Telling me that those words helped you even now, too, doesn't count." His words were harsh, but they had no bite to them at all. The fight was slowly leaving him the longer he stared into a Yusaku lit up only by the moonlight.

Stardust Road wasn't shining, but that was probably for the best. If he had to watch Yusaku lit up by the sea Ryoken knew he wouldn't stand a chance.

"They do help me every day, but it's not just about that," Yusaku told him, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Yes, you saved me back then, and those words gave me the strength to keep moving every day, no matter how painful. But that's not the only reason. You deserve a chance to live too, Ryoken."

Ryoken still wasn't at all used to the way it sounded when Yusaku said his given name. Part of him wanted to turn away, but it was like his body was working against him. Everything he was trying to do was happening in slow motion - stepping away, looking at something else, clenching his fists.

When he didn't reply, Yusaku continued, barely missing a beat. "Your war is over. The Ignis are going to be safe, and they are going to leave humanity alone. If they don't, you _know_ Ai will contact me. Your father is dead." He said this point a bit harsher than the rest, and Ryoken couldn't suppress the automatic flinch at the fact. "You finally have a chance to have a life. To move past _all_ of this. Don't you want that?"

His speech was so earnest it was painful. Even the first night they had spoken about this had not gotten to this level of emotion - probably because neither of them had been ready for it then. This was spurred on by desperation; Yusaku's unbreakable will once again coming face to face with Ryoken's inability to give in.

"Am I supposed to just give up?" The words came from a place he'd long tried to bury inside of him, tumbling out from behind clenched teeth without a chance to grab them back. "Am I supposed to just leave it all behind? I've dedicated my life to eradicating the Ignis - I'm supposed to just-" He shook his head, his body finally catching up with his brain. "Let it go?" The very idea was laughable, but looking into Yusaku's eyes, he knew that was exactly what the other boy wanted from him.

"I'm not saying it'll be easy," Yusaku said, stepping forward slowly. Ryoken urged his feet to take a step away from him, but his treacherous body once again ignored his wishes. "I know it won't be. But it's _over_. We can finally move on. Was your honest plan just to die?" One of his arms came up slowly, an outstretched hand waiting for him to take it.

_Yes_ , he wanted to hiss out. After his mission it had always been his plan. To finally repent. The weight of his sins was far too much for him to bear alone. Even if they had succeeded in destroying the Ignis long before it ever got to the Tower of Hanoi, it would've been what happened afterwards. As payment for killing his own father.

But part of him yearned to reach out for Yusaku. Wanted so desperately to take the hand he had offered him again and again, and start to learn. He thought he had wanted it initially, had thought that he had given it an honest try over the last few days, but he knew deep down he hadn't. Not really. It had just been another attempt at making up for the guilt he carried with him when it came to the younger boy.

He knew that Yusaku was right. Killing himself might have been his plan, but he wasn't dead yet. For the time being, he was alive. And withering away until his body gave out sounded like a horrible, horrible way to live until then.

He just really, really didn't know how to express that. Not in words, not in body language, not in any way whatsoever. "What if I give up again?" He asked, letting his thoughts bubble to the surface. "What if I decide it's not worth it?"

_What if_ after _what if_ floated to his mind as he scrambled to figure out answers in his head. Yusaku, without hesitation, moved his hand from its outstretched position to snag Ryoken's own. His grip was tight, as if it were tugging him back to reality.

"What if?" He asked simply, shrugging a little with his other shoulder. "We will deal with things as they come. We did this time."

Slowly, Ryoken returned the grip Yusaku had on his hand. Their fingers laced themselves together, almost as if on instinct, and Ryoken couldn't help but stare in fascination. This was the first time he'd ever held hands with someone that wasn't his father. That had _never_ felt like this; his father's hands had always been cold and lifeless, even when he was alive. They had never felt so warm.

"You never answered my question," he finally said after a moment, still staring at Yusaku's hand gripping his tightly. "Why do you care so much? Why are you going this far for someone who dragged you into hell?"

From the corner of his eye, he watched Yusaku roll his eyes. "I've always cared about you, Ryoken," he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I told you before. You and you alone are the only person I am able to connect with like this. Everything I've done in the past decade has been partially for you. That won't change."

It wasn't really an answer. It didn't tell him anything about the nature of his feelings, only that they were there - that much was already apparent. But Ryoken found he no longer cared. He no longer felt the need to dissect everything Yusaku told him, nor his own actions. That could wait for another time, another day entirely.

For now, he let himself feel the way Yusaku's hand fit so well in his own, how much warmer it was compared to his own, how soft they were despite the many abuses he put them through with his constant usage.

He knew he couldn't make any promises. Not about staying there, and not about his next try being perfect. Somehow, he knew that wouldn't really matter to Yusaku.

One: He knew if he tried to run away again, Yusaku would always find him and drag him back.

Two: He had nothing else to lose anymore, anyways. The boy standing in between him and the ocean had been nothing but truthful - the war was over. He had no chance of tracking down the other Ignis unless they wanted to be found. His father was dead. The other Lost Incident victims were all accounted for. His mission as he knew it was completely and utterly finished.

And three: Though he would never tell the other boy this for a thousand years, most likely, Ryoken found he quite liked the way Yusaku's hand felt in his own, and the way that Yusaku genuinely _tried_ for him. It reminded him so much of that first day, way back when, when he had just been a young kid excited to make a friend. Never mind the fact that he had to bring that friend back to his father, never mind the fact that they had just met. When he saw Yusaku like this, in front of the ocean and just the moonlight to illuminate him, Ryoken felt like he was allowed to be that child again, if only just for a moment.

Try as he might, he knew he wasn't ready to give that feeling up. Not quite yet.

The two of them stayed out at Stardust Road for awhile, comfortable in the silence that had overtaken them. Ryoken was content, for once, to sort through his thoughts as they came, no longer terrified of what the future may hold now that everything had fallen through. Scared still, yes, but that was something he could learn to live with.

On the contrary, he was finally starting to come to terms with the fact that Yusaku was _not_ something he could learn to live without. Even when they had spent the last ten years separated, the pull that had been present from day one was still there, thrumming deep in his veins.

The light from the sun finally started to peak behind the clouds, and he was suddenly glad they'd managed to wait out the whole night on the beach front. Orange and red washed over both of them, and Ryoken decided this was yet another scene he'd never want to forget.

"Let's go home," Yusaku finally said, breaking Ryoken out of his own head once more.

He wasn't sure where he was referring to - his own apartment, Ryoken's house, or somewhere else, but taking a deep breath, Ryoken realized the truth he'd been fighting all along. The oxygen filled his lungs, and for maybe the first time, he gave Yusaku a real, honest smile. Not full of any of the grimness or anguish it usually was.

"I am home."

**Author's Note:**

> Like, seriously, at this point its nearly a nostalgia factor for me to write something like this lmao. Anyways I'll be writing again more frequently now that I'm starting to get a hang of my schedule, so... see you sooner than three months from now lmao. Thanks as always for sticking around to read my stuff. I love and appreciate every single email notif I get even if I don't respond in a timely manner. Here's to another year, yeah? :)


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